


Lord Snow

by Queenofthebees



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire & Related Fandoms, A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Cunnilingus, Dark Jon Snow, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, I don't think he is that dark really, I just wanted an excuse for Jon to bang Sansa, I'm counting it, Loss of Virginity, Possessive Jon Snow, Pregnancy, Vaginal Fingering, but since that was loosely based on history itself then whatever, loosely based on braveheart, northern independence fight
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-14
Updated: 2018-07-14
Packaged: 2019-06-09 20:58:05
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,855
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15276057
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Queenofthebees/pseuds/Queenofthebees
Summary: Jon Snow would never dishonour a lady. He would never bed another man's betrothed. He would be ashamed to even think it.But Lord Snow. He was bitter and angry at being tricked. Fed up of Aegon the Conqueror destroying his country.Lord Snow would bed the future Queen without a second thought if she gave any hint that she wanted him.





	Lord Snow

**Author's Note:**

> This was originally for the historical event. But I hate the historical inaccuracy of it so I moved it to dark Jon. Though he isn't that dark, more possessive and jealous. But whatever, I'm counting it. Soft dark Jon lol.  
> I just basically wanted Jon to impregnate Sansa and destroy the royal line because he's a jealous baby boy

The hut was a small thing, hidden far in the Wolfswood. Over racing rivers and through thickets of trees and undergrowth, only those who ventured off the path would know where to find it.

Those of the North itself.

Jon knew that Aegon’s armies, no matter the wars he raged, would never find him here. And Sansa had known that too. It was the only explanation for why the Princess had summoned him here.

Lord Robb Stark’s sister had gone south with the hopes of enjoying court and the sun on her face. Instead, when the North’s king was killed in an accident, leaving no true heir in his wake, Aegon had come and claimed the Northern lands for his own.

Aegon the Conquerer the Northerners hissed behind their doors.

King Aegon, the man himself insisted.

He had been effective with his fear. Kill the protesters, enforce prima nocta to stop the Northerners breeding among themselves. Take prisoners of the nobles who could sway the tide.

Robb Stark had been favourite to take the Northern throne and lead the new rebellion. His family was well respected and liked throughout the North, and he was a good swordsman. Of course, Aegon had known of this and had insisted Sansa be betrothed to his son Aenys almost as soon as he came North to claim the throne himself.

To show no hard feelings between us, to unite us once and for all, he had insisted.

To keep the North in its place, to stifle the last chance of fighting back, the Northerners knew.

Jon was no King or Lord. Just a bastard born stable boy who had worked on the Stark’s lands. He had nothing to lose from inciting a rebellion himself.

It hadn’t taken long to gather followers. Lordships meant little in the times of desperation. The Northern people would follow anyone willing to lead them to freedom once more, regardless of status or birth.

They called him Lord Snow though. If only to insult Aegon further by raising a bastard high in rank and esteem.

Robb had publicly refused to fight and Jon understood why. His sister was captive and until Aegon was defeated, her safety had to always be Robb Stark’s first priority.

But Jon was winning battles without the help of Lord Stark. And when Jon started winning battles, advancing the Northern army to the borders of the Vale of Arryn and then to the Riverlands, Aegon had began to think of treating.

He had sent Sansa with a few guards for the job.

Jon had known that Aegon had thought himself too important to come and treat himself. No doubt he thought Jon would be stupid enough to attempt to kill him under guest right. Jon was bitter and angry but he wasn’t horrible enough to disrespect the notion of guest protection.

He may even have thought that Jon would harm Sansa and thus bring Robb onto the Targaryen’s side once and for all. The insult of being thought so stupid was almost as bad as the idea he would harm a guest.

Sansa had begged for peace, pretty words she had rehearsed while the guards eyed her and him carefully.

She had always been a pretty girl. His eyes had wandered to her far more than they should when he was a lad especially with him being bastard born and she a fine lady. But now she was more beautiful than ever, her hair thick and long, glowing in the sunlight.

He had cut through her courtesies, telling her of the way Aegon's armies wasted the Northern lands, raped the women and killed all those who dared to protect what was theirs.

"There can never be peace so long as Aegon insists on ruling us," Jon insisted. Sansa flinched, unused to harsh words from him. He had always been soft with her as a boy. "The North will not kneel to a Targaryen my lady. We were our own country long before Aegon stole our throne and so long as I live, we'll continue fighting to remain so."

She knew of the cruelty Jon had on the battlefield. Ramsay Bolton's skin still dressed his sword hilt. But Jon had been kind enough to kill the bastard first, a fate he scarcely deserved for betraying his country and fighting for the Targaryens. But she had said nothing of it, merely making a sweet statement about how it saddened her that they could not reach an agreement before she had left with her guards.

He had thought that would be the last time he would see her.

Until her maid delivered the letter to him, where Sansa had asked him to meet her at night, here in their old secret place.

“How did you get out unseen?” he asked. Her lips twitched.

“Margaery knows how to distract a man long enough for me to sneak away. Nobody will know I’m gone before I return.”

Jon nodded, glancing around the deserted room. The straw bed they had made as children, where they would sleep the afternoon away after an extensive play session was still there in the corner.

"Aegon is trapping you," she said. "While you ride south, he is sending an army of Gold Cloaks North to destroy every major Northern hold."

Jon sighed, annoyed that he hadn't thought of such a trap occurring before.

“You’re putting yourself in danger, helping me like this,” he whispered, looking back to her. Her hands clasped in front of her and her eyes lowered slowly, shyly. Jon stepped up to her. “Why would you do that Sansa?”

“Do you not know?” she murmured, glancing up at him once more. Her eyes pierced through him, making him swallow thickly with the intensity of her feelings.

He had never allowed himself to think of her. She would never be his, he had known that all his life despite his thoughts and dreams that differed so sweetly. In them, he was a lord worthy of her hand. In them, he married her with the spring flowers in her hair, in a free North as her brother walked her down the aisle. In them, she belonged to him alone, not some Targaryen's bargaining chip.

Jon Snow would never dishonour a lady. He would never bed another man's betrothed. He would be ashamed to even think it.

But Lord Snow. He was bitter and angry at being tricked. Fed up of Aegon the Conqueror destroying his country.

Lord Snow would bed the future Queen without a second thought if she gave any hint that she wanted him.

Her lips were soft beneath his as he swallowed her moans. 

He guided her backwards towards the make shift bed as his fingers pulled at the laces of her dress. He pushed it past her hips, helping her step out of it as it fell to her feet. He pushed her down on the bed, untying her boots with a smile as she blinked up at him, lips plump from his kisses. His hands slid up her legs, feeling the skin twitch beneath his fingertips as he reached the top of her stockings. He rolled them down slowly, fingers ghosting along her skin and causing goosebumps to raise in their wake.

She sighed softly as he bent down to kiss at her exposed chest, over the curves of her breasts. Her cheeks flushed as he licked around her nipples, the buds hardening under his attentions.

"Oh!" she gasped as he closed his lips over her bud. His fingers reached up to roll the other and her back arched up for more. Jon sucked lightly, teeth grazing gently. And when he pulled back, the nipple was red with need, the barest swipe of his thumb causing Sansa to whimper with lust.  He dove down again, lips closing over the other nipple while his fingers continued to pinch the other.

She whined as he pulled away to rid himself of his shirt. He smirked, taking her hands and guiding them to her breasts. Her eyes widened, her whole face flushing with realisation even before his throaty command. "Pleasure yourself."

Her movements were shy and unsure, her face turning away in embarrassment as she gave her breasts a soft squeeze. Jon licked his lips at the sight of her, a satisfied rumble echoing in his chest at the thought that not only will he have her first, before any Targaryen princling can paw at her. But he would teach her to pleasure herself so when she has to go to bed with her husband, she will think of this night, of him and how he had her first, mind, body and soul.

His shirt now gone, he continued to watch as Sansa became more confident, fingers straying towards the nipples to tug on them until she was gasping, hair painting the pillow red as she tossed her head back in pleasure. He reached down to unlace his breeches before reaching for her ankles.

Sansa gasped, her movements stopping as she watched him move her legs up and apart, his head settling in the v of her thighs. She squirmed, her thighs attempting to shut in an attempt to preserve modesty. Jon growled, holding them in place as he swiped his tongue through her folds.

It didn't take long for soft whimpers to catch in her throat, for her body to surrender to his mouth's assault. He hooked his hands under her knees, shoving them back towards her chest. Sansa twitched as the new angle allowed him to press himself closer, to hold her in place as his tongue laid claim to her most intimate parts.

He chanced a look up her body, smirking against her flesh at the sight of her closed eyes and parted lips. His right hand strayed up her body, finger gently circling her hardened nipple.

"Do you want this sweetling?" he mumbled against her folds. Sansa whimpered, head tossing against the pillow. Jon growled, pinching her nipple hard enough to make her gasp and her hips to arch up. "Say it!" he murmured. Sansa flushed, her teeth stubbornly biting into her lip. "Say you want me to take you. Say you're mine!"

"I'm yours," she breathed, groaning as his lips closed around her clit, sucking gently. He reluctantly released her breast to let his hand travel back down. Her thigh twitched beneath his left hand as he pressed the pointer finger of his right against her entrance.

"Relax," he murmured as he slipped it inside. The tight heat made him groan with need, imaging how his cock would feel against her slick walls. He picked up the pace of his tongue, pressing hard against her clit as she mewled helplessly against his assault, her hips rolling desperately against him, fucking his mouth and fucking herself on his probing fingers as he pushed another one inside.

Her hands clutched at his hair, her breath beginning to catch in her throat as her body started to shake. Jon hummed in satisfaction, picking up the pace until the air was filled with the sounds of her arousal as his fingers continued to stretch her. He closed his lips over her clit once more, and Sansa screamed into the night, her body arching and pulling taut as a bowstring, her feet pressing almost painfully against his back as her body tried to pull him closer, needing the pleasure that had taken her to last longer. And as she collapsed back on the bed, limp and panting, Jon kissed her clit gently, smirking at the way her sensitive body jerked up. He took advantage of her pliancy, pressing a third finger to her entrance. Sansa groaned, shaking her head even as he pushed it inside, the overwhelming tightness making him pause for a few beats to avoid hurting her.

"Too full," Sansa moaned, even as her legs spread wider on instinct, allowing his fingers to slide in deeper.

"Relax," he commanded again, withdrawing his fingers slowly and pushing them back in. "You'll be fuller than this soon enough, sweet girl."

His eyes dropped to her cunt, watching as his fingers worked her open for him, the way her arousal coated her lips and ran down his hand. She was slick enough for him to take but he wanted her to beg. She would be wed Aenys Targaryen by the next moon. The sniveling, weak excuse of a man would have this woman by his side for all of time. All Jon had was tonight, one night to make her feel nothing but sweet pleasure, to take her for his own.

A guttural groan vibrated in her chest, her eyes rolling back as his thumb pressed against her nub, the pad pressing in firm circles as his fingers curled and stretched inside of her.

"I won't let them keep you," he groaned against the soft skin of her thighs.

Sansa whimpered as his fingers increased in speed, her eyelids fluttering against her blushing skin.

"I'll kill them all Sansa, I promise you."

"Jon!"

"I'll take you home again," he promised. "And make you  _my_ wife."

"Yes,  _yes_!"

Her cunt clamped around his fingers and Jon growled in satisfaction as she writhed beneath him with her release, her breasts heaving with every gulp of breath she took as she tried to compose herself. Jon pulled his fingers out and shifted until he lay above her, his cock eagerly seeking out her warmth.

He rocked his hips a few times, dragging his tip through her soaking folds. Sansa moaned, rolling her hips up in silent request and Jon grinned, leaning down to nuzzle her neck.

"Sweet Sansa," he murmured, reaching down to position himself. She parted easily for him, her sweet gasps making his head spin as he slowly filled her. With one snap of his hips, her maidenhead was his and he groaned as she clutched at him, pulling him closer as she gave a soft grunt of discomfort.

"Shhh," he whispered against her cheek. "I'll make it good."

He withdrew slowly, rolling his hips lazily as he let her grow accustomed to him. He cursed as he fought for control against the feel of her around him, the dark part of his mind purring with satisfaction in knowing that he had taken something from the Targaryens after all.

Her nails dug sharply into his back as he hoisted himself up, bumping his groin against her clit as he moved. She was relaxed now, taking him easily as he increased his pace. He tugged at her hair, twisting her head so he could claim her lips in a possessive kiss, his tongue claiming her mouth as his cock claimed her cunt.

"I want my babe in you," he groaned as the sudden desire to see her round with child filled his mind. It was a stupid thought. It was dangerous enough to be bedding her but a rounded belly was harder to hide than a lost maidenhead. Still, it was such a pretty picture.

But Sansa merely moaned, rocking her hips up against him with frantic need. And it was that reaction, the way her body was practically begging that made him forget about the dangers of such an action, his lips curling against her ear as he nuzzled her temple.

"You want it?" he growled, hips slamming hard into her, making her grip him hard for support as she was jerked along with his thrusts. She nodded desperately, hair clinging to her sweaty forehead as she pleaded prettily.

"Give me your seed," she gasped, locking her limbs around him as she panted against his neck, her cunt beginning to clench around him. "Put your babe in me Jon!"

She tensed around him, his name echoing around them as she fell into her climax. Jon clenched his eyes shut at the tight feel of her, his hands gripping her hips as he sat on his heels, tugging her down on his cock over and over. She moaned as he kept fucking into her and he grinned as he felt her beginning to clench again with another climax. Her eyes opened, her sweet lips curling up teasingly before her hand slipped down.

"Fuck!" Jon cried, hips jerking erratically as his eyes dropped to her fingers playing with her clit. 

As she gripped him again, her hoarse voice calling his name once more, he pushed deep inside of her and groaned as he spilled his release.

If he was truly her husband, he would bask in the afterglow, cuddle her close and press kisses all across her skin.

But he isn't her husband. She will be someone else's by the next moon.

His hand dropped to her stomach, a dark part of him hoping his seed had taken root. A little Northern rebellion made between them.

Because the Targaryens may have made her their prisoner, may plan to dress her in red and black.

But Sansa was a Northern girl, a Stark of Winterfell.

Blood and fire may be Aegon's motto, but Jon would use them too if it brought Sansa home.

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> Jon wins the war Bannockburn style and claims Sansa back in the peace terms. She starts to show with child. Robb is proclaimed King in the North. Everyone is happy lol


End file.
